Tag Archives: psychiatrists

I couldn’t resist the lure of a new novel featuring mental illness and its effects, from one of Australia’s leading psychiatrists, no less, and so here we are today with In Two Minds by Gordon Parker, founder of the Black Dog Institute. We received our copy from Ventura Press for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Dr Martin Homer is a GP with a naturally sunny disposition. Honourable, attentive and trusted by all of his patients, Martin has only ever loved one woman – his wife, Sarah.

When his mother dies suddenly, Martin’s comfortable life is thrown into complete disarray. After sinking into the black dog of grief and depression, he ascends to new heights in a frenzied, manic high. Now, he’s never felt better!

In between riding his new skateboard around the streets at night and self-medicating from his stash at work, the artificially elated and self-entitled Martin crosses paths with Bella, a beautiful and sexual young woman profoundly damaged by trauma of her own.

In Two Minds takes you on a quirky, rollicking journey that unveils the complexities of mental illness with wit and warmth. Gordon Parker’s impressive career in psychiatry reveals itself through extremely rich descriptions of depression, bipolar and borderline personality characteristics.

It must be said that when you’ve read a lot of books, both fiction and nonfiction, featuring mental illness of one form or another, things do tend to get a bit samey. This is one of the reasons I am in two minds about In Two Minds – if this had been the first novel I had read in which the protagonist has a breakdown and ends up in a psychiatric unit, I may have been more interested in the outcome. Indeed, if I had not had the pleasure of spending some time in a psychiatric hospital myself, I may have been more entranced by the ins and outs of what happens when you are deemed no longer able to manage your own affairs without cocking things up in spectacular fashion. If you have not had such an experience yourself, and you aren’t elbow deep in the back catalogue of “books about people losing their marbles in various painful and unexpected ways” then you should find In Two Minds to be compelling reading.

Martin Homer is an all-around good bloke. He loves his wife, is wholeheartedly devoted to his work as a GP and generally sets the standard for good behaviour and personal growth everywhere he goes. Bella is a woman with a past and a borderline personality disorder (**I’ve always wondered why the “borderline” part is added to the “personality disorder” part of that description, because there ain’t nothin’ “borderline” about Bella’s crazy, vitriolic antics**). When Martin’s self-medicating after the death of his mother leads to a manic episode, the trajectories of Bella and Martin cross and Martin’s prior grip on his identity, his marriage and his work is shattered.

The story is told in alternating sections between Martin and Bella, with Martin’s story taking the primary position. Really, this is a story about Martin and Bella is a bit player, albeit one whose back story is essential to the plot for her actions toward Martin to be in any way believable. The author mentions the Madonna-whore complex early on in the story and all of the women presented here in any detail are indeed Madonnas (Edina, Martin’s mother, and Sarah, Martin’s wife) or whores (Bella, the Trophettes). Bella’s early history, which the reader discovers at the end of the book, even indicates that she was a literal whore, working as a prostitute. There was something unsettling about this for me, and I would have liked to have seen a few chapters written from Sarah’s point of view. It seemed a little unfair to have such a focus on the man-slaying Bella and the existential crisis of Martin (post-mania) and so little focus on the woman who chooses to “stand by her man” as it were, despite the fact that he’s just undergone a major change in personality and behaviour. In fact, had there been more of a focus on Sarah, this would have been a point that set this novel apart from the multitude that have gone before it; as important as the perspective of the sufferer of mental illness undeniably is, it would be instructive to read something from the point of view of the supporter – the spouse, significant other, family member – of the sufferer.

One thing that really does set this book apart is that it isn’t focused on talking therapy in any way. Much is made in the early chapters of Martin’s past and the various tragedies and triumphs that shaped who he is. I was expecting that this information would be somehow revisited later in the book as part of Martin’s recovery, but this wasn’t the case. Instead, the section of the book dealing with Martin’s recovery is focused almost entirely on the various medications he is treated with, their side effects and the way they interact. This may explain the slight disconnect I felt between the early parts of the story, in which Martin’s family and Sarah play such a strong role, and the latter parts, in which all of the key stressors and factors that almost certainly factored into Martin’s illness are glossed over in favour of his response to medication. Even though it wasn’t what I was expecting, this certainly was a point of difference that makes this book stand apart from others on a similar topic.

The author may have even not-so-subtly inserted himself into the story by means of Saxon Marshall, Martin’s treating psychiatrist. The name of this character struck me as interesting, and this may just be me receiving coded messages through the TV and novels here, but Saxon is the surname of the Master as played by John Simm in David Tennant’s run of Doctor Who, while Marshal is the given name of one of a psychiatrist character in Irvin Yalom’s Lying on the Couch (see below). I can’t help but wonder if this was a conscious choice of character moniker and if so, what does it say about ol’ Gordon Parker, eh? (**Probably not much because it’s probably not a conscious naming device, and just me projecting. It should have been though – mashing the two characters together is quite evocative, imo**).

I was a little confused at the ending of the book. There is an ambiguous ending for Martin, which I think worked well given we, as readers, leave him so soon after his diagnosis and early recovery. It was a clever move to end his story at this point and leave us wondering what became of him. More curious however was the ending of Bella’s narrative trajectory. Toward the very end of the book, we are privy to even more of Bella’s backstory and the introduction of a new key character in Bella’s life. I couldn’t get a grasp on why this was included, unless it was only to set up Martin’s ambiguous departure, because it certainly didn’t heighten my empathy for Bella in any way and felt like too much of an information dump after the climax of the story.

Having finished up the book, I had a quick flick through some similar books of my acquaintance and, as I mentioned at the beginning of the review, books featuring mental illness of one kind or another do tend to blend together after a while. I definitely experienced shades of The Mirror World of Melody Black by Gavin Extence (female protagonist with bipolar disorder), Terms and Conditions by Robert Glancy (professional male protagonist coming to terms with a change of identity concept and mental trauma), and most obviously, Irvin Yalom’s, Lying on the Couch (multiple psychiatrists go through various psychiatrist-y problems and as in all of Yalom’s work, boobs are mentioned a lot).

If you are looking for a truly original story about the whirlwind of depression, mania and psychosis, then I would suggest trying Kathleen Founds’ brilliant When Mystical Creatures Attack! If you are an entry level journeyperson regarding novels about mental health or you have an interest in bipolar disorder, depression and mania generally, definitely give In Two Minds a go.

I’m book-ending the week with another murder mystery, although this one is a contemporary and set (surprisingly!) in New Zealand. Christchurch, to be exact. We received a copy of Found, Near Water by Katherine Hayton from Netgalley for review and here’s the blurb from Goodreads:

Rena Sutherland wakes from a coma to discover her daughter’s been missing for days. No one’s noticed, no one’s complained, no one’s searching.

The victim support officer assigned to her case, Christine Emmett puts aside her own problems as she tries to guide Rena through the maelstrom of her daughter’s disappearance.

A task made harder by an ex-husband desperate for control; a paedophile on early-release in the community; and a psychic who knows more than seems possible.

And flowing beneath everything is a crime – perpetrated across generations – pulling them into its wake.

The first thing I’ve got to tell you about this one is that in overall tone, it’s reasonably depressing. I suspect that this has much to do with the protagonist, Christine, who is rather a depressing old stick herself – with good reason, some might argue, given that her daughter is dead and her husband is an alcoholic. Christine works as a volunteer victim advocate/support type person at the local police station and is generally a bit acerbic to almost everybody. While I found this tolerable, she isn’t the kind of person I was hoping to spend the book with. It’s worth mentioning here that all of the characters in this story are flawed in some way and the atmosphere is one of lurking menace – not necessarily because there may be a child kidnapper or murderer on the loose, but just due to the unspoken assumption that life is random, brutish and most likely to dish out tragedy to the undeserving.

Having put you on your guard, let me reassure you that I did actually find the book a reasonably solid murder mystery, with an ending that was unexpected and a whole lot creepier than I had anticipated. There are some interesting twists involving psychics that I didn’t see coming (teehee!) and enough action toward the end to make the dreariness worthwhile.

Although the book is set in Christchurch, I will admit to not picking up on any particular Kiwi leanings until the setting was explicitly mentioned. Disappointingly, the police in this one aren’t nearly as cheery and high-spirited as those we see on the Kiwi version of Motorway Patrol, that gets shown over here on a Saturday afternoon. Possibly, their lack of jollity is related to the fact that they are investigating child murder and not crazy driving.

Overall, if you are looking for a murder mystery set in New Zealand that heaps epic amounts of suffering on the undeserving and a few decent shovelfuls on those who are really asking for it, this is a good candidate.

I’ve decided not to let you wait too long before presenting another Murderous Monday and today’s offering is the first in a new (to me) series set in the 1920s or thereabouts in England. I must admit that I always feel a bit uncomfortable reading books set in England between the two world wars, because the people always seem so happy to be recovering from the travails of World War 1 and have no idea what’s coming for them in a very short decade. But I digress. Today’s book is Dying in the Wool: A Kate Shackleton Mystery by Frances Brody. I really enjoyed this involving mystery set in Yorkshire and based around the closely guarded secrets of a family of Mill owners and their workers.

Bridgestead is a peaceful spot: a babbling brook, rolling hills and a working mill at its heart. Pretty and remote, nothing exceptional happens.

Add a measure of mystery …

Until the day that Master of the Mill Joshua Braithwaite goes missing in dramatic circumstances, never to be heard of again.

A sprinkling of scandal …

Now Joshua’s daughter is getting married and wants one last attempt at finding her father. Has he run off with his mistress, or was he murdered for his mounting coffers?

And Kate Shackleton, amateur sleuth extraordinaire!

Kate Shackleton has always loved solving puzzles. So who better to get to the bottom of Joshua’s mysterious disappearance? But as Kate taps into the lives of the Bridgestead dwellers, she opens cracks that some would kill to keep closed.

Plot Summary:

Kate Shackleton, amateur photographer, wife (widow?) of a man missing-in-action in World War 1 and lady with a knack for chasing up lost loved ones, meets up with a friend from her VAD days and is given her first opportunity to use her skills professionally. Teaming up with ex-policeman and friend of her father’s, Jim Sykes, Kate sets off for Bridgestead in an attempt to shed light on the six year old disappearance of her friend Tabitha’s father, the owner of the local mill and dye works. Things are not as easy as Kate might hope, however, as everyone except Tabitha believes that the matter was over and done with six years ago and the fate of Joshua Braithwaite – whatever it happened to be – is one that need not be disturbed. Nevertheless, Kate determinedly sets about leaving no stone unturned and with the clandestine help of Jim Sykes, may yet come up with an answer before Tabitha’s wedding…but will it be the result Tabitha was hoping for?

The Usual Suspects:

There are a shed full of suspects getting underfoot in this one: Braithwaite’s cold and dismissive wife; captain-at-the-helm for now, Joshua’s cousin Neville Stoddard; Wilson, disgruntled inventor of a new loom picker for the mill and his downtrodden, alcoholic wife; Paul and Lizzie Kellett, stalwart workers at the mill and confidantes of Joshua Braithwaite; Hector, Tabitha’s younger fiancée and witness to Braithwaite’s initial downfall and Dr Gregory Grainger, the psychiatrist in charge of the hospital to which Braithwaite was taken after his supposed attempt at suicide.

The Hunt for the Murderer/s:

Kate’s hunt for answers is one I found to be particularly engaging because the author has done a great job of drip-feeding secrets and tidbits of information throughout the tale. No one seems to be wholly innocent in the dealings, but of exactly what they are guilty is also up for investigation. There are a couple of extra murders thrown in partway through the tale to muddy the waters and the twists and turns kept me guessing right to the end.

Overall Rating:

Five poison bottles for the steady drip of dye as it permanently stains the fabric of a life

Apart from the inexplicable appearance of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at a dinner party late in the piece, this was a fairly typical but deeply involving mystery. It’s never certain that Kate is involved in a murder mystery because no body has ever been found and, as a known philanderer, the object of Kate’s investigation could well have nipped off somewhere to start a new life, with or without an extramarital partner in tow. I particularly enjoyed the way that the characters all seemed to have layers and motivations that were peeled back with each step of the investigation; this added to the puzzle element of the story and ensured that I didn’t twig to the murderer/s too early in the piece.

The ending was surprisingly action-packed and I was impressed with the realistic way in which the characters’ reactions to the eventual solution to the mystery (including Kate’s own reaction) were written. While it would have been easy to wrap things up neatly, certain characters including Kate herself – as well as the reader – are left to ponder the rightness of various outcomes and actions.

I feel like this could be another series that I would be happy to continue on with intermittently when time allows, provided the writing continues to be so twisty and layered.

Ready to be party to some deep, well-pondered insights? Then you’ve come to the right place my friend. Today I have an adult fiction, horror tale for you in We Are Monsters by Brian Kirk. I was lucky enough to receive a copy from those masters of spookiness, Samhain Publishing, via Netgalley for review. Got your reinforced, monster-proofed reading gauntlets on? Then let’s have at it.

He’s the hospital’s newest, and most notorious, patient—a paranoid schizophrenic who sees humanity’s dark side. Luckily he’s in good hands. Dr. Eli Alpert has a talent for healing tortured souls. And his protégé is working on a cure for schizophrenia, a drug that returns patients to their former selves. But unforeseen side effects are starting to emerge.

Forcing prior traumas to the surface.

Setting inner demons free.

Monsters have been unleashed inside the Sugar Hill mental asylum.

They don’t have fangs or claws. They look just like you or me.

So here are

Five Things I’ve Learned From…

We Are Monsters

1. If you believe fiction writers, psychiatrists are always higher up the “Batshit Crazy” scale than their patients.

2. Psychiatrists always, ALWAYS have an ulterior motive. Even if it’s subconscious.

3. Unmonitored, experimental medicine always leads to trouble. Or a miracle cure. It depends on your viewpoint. And how uncomfortable you are about the possibility of having your psychotic hallucinations made flesh.

4. Reality is subjective. Unless you’re an inpatient of a mental institution. Then reality is objective and your version of it is clearly wrong.

5. If you are seeking inpatient care for mental health issues, always remember to ask about whether you will be subjected to experimental medicine. If yes, refer to point 3.

I’m in two minds about this book. On one hand, it is a hefty, action-packed, original tale with lots of twists and turns and characters with comprehensive backstories. On the other, it felt a bit overly long, used every cliché about psychiatrists (and patients) it is possible to use and kind of lost the plot in the middle.

Did I enjoy it? Yes.

Would I read it again? No.

Would I recommend it to lovers of psychological horror? Definitely.

So as you can see, We Are Monsters has inspired a crisis of ambiguity in me.

To begin with the positives, I thought that the first half of the book was very well-written, with a slow-build toward the inevitable catastrophe that is promised right from the start. As we are introduced to the three main characters – Eli, Alex and Angela – we get to see how the dynamics at Sugar Hill are primed for disaster, as Alex experiments with a new wonder drug for schizophrenia, Angela attempts to relate on a human level with a convicted serial killer and Eli wanders around in a fog of hippy altruism. We are treated to a few cheeky twists early on, discovering some possible motives around why Alex might be so desperate to perfect his new medicine and why he wants to keep Eli in the dark.

After a mini-climax in the middle of the book when the proverbial excrement hits the proverbial rotating cooling device, I did feel that the story lost its way a little. When our three main characters are plunged into what can only be described as an altered version of reality, the author spends a lot of time reliving the main characters’ backstories. I found that this section was overwhelming and slowed the pace considerably. By the end of the book, the rapid pace has resumed as certain characters regain normality and attempt to resolve the significant problems that have arisen during the time they were taking a holiday from conscious thought.

I suppose the way the author melded the realistic elements with elements of a psychological thriller and a paranormal story didn’t quite work for me. I definitely related to the jarring and disorientation that the main characters were experiencing, but I didn’t care enough about them to want them to come out the other side. In fact I would have been quite happy for them to have succumbed to unreality. I suspect this is because Eli and Alex in particular did really read like every bad stereotype of a psychiatrist that I’ve ever read, with Eli being all heart and Alex being all head. As for Angela…well, I just didn’t care for her. The serial killer seemed a nice enough chap though.

We Are Monsters will definitely satisfy if you are in the mood for a mind-bending tale that jolts you around and makes you question what is really going on. While elements of it didn’t really work for me, I think this is just due to personal tastes and I certainly wouldn’t dissuade anyone from trying this out if it’s your preferred genre.

Welcome to the final Mondays with Marple post for 2014. I’ve enjoyed Marpling along with you all this year and it’s been fun to explore the world of Jane Marple to such an extent. This final offering for the year was quite a satisfying puzzle, which is a relief since the last few Marples I picked were less than stellar. Today we will explore Christie’s misdirection and sleight of hand in They Do It With Mirrors.

Plot Summary:

Miss Marple is coerced into visiting an old school friend at her home, Stonygates – a Victorian mansion that has been repurposed to include a boarding school for delinquent boys – after a mutual friend’s insistence that something isn’t right with Carrie Louise Serrocold. On her arrival, Miss Marple can find nothing obviously amiss, but traces the threads of a few patterns that give her cause for disquiet. When Carrie Louise’s stepson (from her first marriage) – Christian Gulbrandsen – arrives unexpectedly, Miss Marple manages to overhear a conversation that leads her to believe that something important is being kept from her dear friend. An alarming incident involving Carrie Louise’s current husband – Lewis Serrocold – and one of the young delinquents draws all eyes in the mansion, and shortly after this Christian Gulbrandsen is found murdered. The murder sends the occupants of the house into a flurry of suspicion. Any one of them could have been responsible for the shooting of Gulbrandsen, and as they are all intimately connected, nobody knows who to trust.

The Usual Suspects:

This is a bit of a convoluted story where characters are concerned – there’s grande olde dame, the quiet, sweet-hearted, trusting Carrie Louise, her third (and current) husband, Lewis, her daughter Mildred, her granddaughter (from her adopted eldest deceased child) Gina; Gina’s American husband Wally; the two grown-up sons of Carrie Louise’s second husband, Steven and Alex; Carrie Louise’s elderly stepson (from her first marriage) Gulbrandsen, Carrie Louise’s brisk and competent companion, Jolly; Edgar Lawson, a troubled young man from the boarding school, and a few assorted psychiatrists and juveniles.

Level of Carnage:

Low for most of the book. There are a few secondary murders that take place in a rather violent fashion, and a few extra deaths to round out the reveal.

Level of Wiley-Tricksiness:

High. Obviously the title hints that there will be a bit of misdirection going on here, but as even Miss Marple gets tricked by this initially I don’t feel too bad about falling for certain red herrings.

Overall Rating:

Four knitting needles for the tangled family relationships involved

It was a relief, after a few hit-and-miss Marples, to pick up a standard, old-fashioned pyschological puzzle. This is Christie at her typical high quality. The action happens in one place, there’s plenty of opportunity for readers to make a stab (pun intended) at the murderer/s and the eventual reveal is pretty satisfying. It’s not a “blow you away with it’s brilliance” novel, but it’s a lot better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. A lot less painful too. Not to mention less messy.

Next year I will be moving on to a broader review program that encompasses the works of more writers of murder mystery. Christie’s work will, of course, be included in this program, but I will also branch out to include others such as Dorothy L. Sayers and …. others, who I haven’t discovered yet. Feel free to suggest some good murdery tales and you may find them featured in my 2015 review series: Monday is for Murder!

Cheerio my pretties! Today I have an indie fantasy-paranormal-horror story for the grown-ups that features all manner of creepy goings-on. I was initially drawn to it because of the raven on the cover (cool!) and the fact that it was set partly in a ghostly library (super-cool!) and partly in a psychiatric inpatient facility (count me in!). I received a digital copy of today’s book, Mr Wicker by Maria Alexander from the publisher, Raw Screaming Dog Press (now there’s a name that gives you a good idea what sort of books they publish) in exchange for review – thanks!

Alicia Baum is experiencing a run of failures – her husband left her, her last book bombed in sales, and the bank is foreclosing on her house – and decides to end it all. As she loses consciousness during her suicide attempt, Alicia finds herself inside a mysterious library with the sinister librarian, Mr Wicker, who informs her that his library holds a book containing Alicia’s lost memory – the one that is the cause of all her suffering to date. Before she can take possession of the book, or move on into the (proper) hereafter, Alicia wakes to find herself in Bayford Psychiatric Hospital, under the control of the odious Dr Sark.

Dr James Farron is a paediatric psychiatrist with a special interest in Alicia’s case. Using funding for a research grant, Dr Farron is attempting to find out more about the mysterious Mr Wicker, a name that continually arises in the sleep-talk of children suffering trauma who are brought to the hospital. Alicia is the first adult Dr Farron has ever encountered who has mentioned Mr Wicker, and he intends to find out why.

As the two cross paths in the hospital, danger is closing in from all sides, threatening to end Dr Farron’s career and Alicia’s life. Unless Alicia can untangle the mystery of her missing memory, Mr Wicker may just open the door to some very old secrets indeed, that have the potential to change Alicia and Dr Farron forever.

I’m going to do things a bit differently this time, as I tend to do when I feature books with some particularly sensitive or disturbing themes (and this book has a bit of both), so here is a “Don’t Read it if…” disclaimer for those who are faint of heart.

Don’t Read it if:

* you are in a fragile state of mind and the graphic description of a suicide attempt and violence against the female lead character is not something you want in your current reading experience

Now, onto the Read it if:

*you like your fantasy/horror stories to be raw, graphic and featuring more than a little violence, creepiness and smouldering sensuality

* you’ve ever been minding your own business and enjoying a quiet stroll in the park when out of the blue a large angry bird descends seemingly out of nowhere to chase, swoop and peck you … this point applies doubly if this has happened to you indoors

* when reading stories set in a psychiatric hospital, you prefer said hospital to employ practices more suited to a medieval torture chamber

*you believe fantasy/horror just isn’t fantasy/horror unless it takes a completely unexpected turn right in the middle of the story, preferably involving a little known ancient myth that features eternally repeating betrayal and murder

Mr Wicker was a lot more graphic in its horror and violence than the books that I usually read, but I suspect it will greatly appeal to those who regularly enjoy this genre. Graphic descriptions aside though, the author manages to deliver a pretty complex storyline without losing control of any of the multiple plot threads. Throughout the book, there’s a palpable sense of danger to Alicia, and the feeling that things aren’t what they seem. A number of the hospital staff are less than professional, to say the least, and as the story unfolds the reader gets the idea that not only may Alicia be in danger from supernatural forces, but from some very human forces also.

Dr Farron is an instantly likeable, if somewhat stereotypical character, fulfilling the role of Alicia’s protector and champion when all around her seem to discount her experiences as the ravings of a madwoman. The author manages to throw any stereotypes out the window with the introduction of a new and entirely unexpected (for me, anyway) plotline right in the middle of the book, that sheds light on the character of Mr Wicker and the reasons why he is so interested in Alicia herself.

Underlying all of this is Alicia’s missing memory and how this has contributed to her unraveling life. This mystery is played out slowly, as Alicia dips into her family history in sessions with Dr Farron, but can’t quite grasp the memory that Mr Wicker guards so closely. The inclusion of this personal psychological mystery as one of the major plotlines gives a nice break from all the other strangeness going on in the book and allows for a change of pace that I appreciated when it popped up every now and then.

Overall, I’d say that this book has a satisfying blend of fantasy themes, anticipated romance, family secrets, horror and mystery and will appeal to those who are looking for a complex story with a lot of twists and turns. And large, flapping birds appearing in odd places. Mr Wicker is due for release on September 16th.

Evenin’ all. Today’s “Read-it-if” falls into one of my favourite sub-genres: psychiatric tales. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the sort of books produced by such lauded psychotherapists as Irvin D. Yalom and Susie Orbach, which involve therapists spilling their guts (and the guts of their patients) with identities changed to protect the innocent. Based on this enjoyment, I figured The Examined Life: How We Lose and Find Ourselves by psychotherapist Stephen Grosz would be just the ticket.

The book is divided into short collections of patient-therapist interaction based around a particular theme such as grief and loss or romantic relationships. I found the interactions in the first half of the book to be missing the all-important therapist’s perspective, and without this, the anecdotes had the feel of random, slightly amusing (or disturbing) stories chucked in for…..well, I’m not sure what for. Thankfully, this was rectified in the second half of the book and I felt at the conclusion of this tome that it had been a satisfying reading experience.

Read it if:

* you just can’t resist a good old eavesdrop when the opportunity arises

* you are of the belief that shoes should be removed before availing oneself of the therapist’s couch

* you’ve always wondered what that therapist was really thinking when you related the emotional turmoil you experienced that time you accidentally got yourself caught in your zipper

* you suspect that your therapist may actually be snoozing/texting/fantasizing about their next yacht purchase on the quiet while you blab away on the couch

This is a fascinating and light read for anyone who has any kind of voyeuristic tendency. If you’re looking for something that delves more deeply into the psychotherapist’s methods and approach, I would probably lean more towards Yalom’s work (specifically Love’s Executioner) or Susie Orbach’s creatively named The Impossibility of Sex (pictured below). However Grosz’s little tome is a nice introduction to the topic and an engaging and relatively quick read.